


Brothers in Arms

by Copperbell111



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Blood, Gore, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Other, Shellshock, War, getting shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-08 17:11:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14110131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Copperbell111/pseuds/Copperbell111
Summary: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH In November 1917, during the battle of the Somme. Matthew Williams joins his older brother on the battlefield, defying orders to stay away from the killing and the destruction. When he is killed and trapped in barbed wire, Francis suffers shell shock, and deserts the front line. He only has Arthur (England) to rely on, and help him through this time.  Refusing to shoot Francis for desertion, Arthur is also putting his life in danger.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to Brothers in Arms by Dire Straits

Battle of the Somme – November 1916  
Francis Bonnefoy was extremely concerned when his younger brother Matthew Williams volunteered to join him in battle. He was grateful on the surface, but in his heart felt that it was unfair, after all this wasn’t his war. He had grown up in Canada and Francis still viewed him as a young child, even though he was fully grown and although only 19 he was a man at that age. When he arrived at the battle of the Somme, Francis welcomed him with open arms and tried to get him into doing activities that meant he didn’t have to go over the trenches with the troops, such as working the telegraph. He had been there three weeks when he realised what Francis was doing and eventually he realised that his older brother was the one stopping him from joining the battle properly. One cold evening as they were about to rest for the night, Matthew, who was a naturally shy young man, eventually found the courage to speak to him about his desire to go over the trenches and fight.   
“Can I have a word with you Sir?” He asked being far too polite. It made his big brother smile at first.   
“Matthew...” he said with a smile “You do not need to call me Sir… call me Francis, there is no need to be so formal!” He said and hugged him. “What do you want to have a word about?”   
“I want to know why … you got me on working the telegraph instead of fighting…” He said in a serious tone. “I am perfectly capable, and I came here to help defend France… not to sit taking messages and making cups of tea.”   
Francis’ face dropped, he wasn’t about to let his little brother go over the top, he didn’t want him to. He was afraid for him but didn’t want to let on that was the reason. “Oh Matthew, you are the best telegraph operator we’ve had in months…” He lied “You speak fluently, both English and French, and that’s what we need… if you go over the top it would be … dangerous for you.”   
“Isn’t it dangerous for everyone?” Matthew replied. “Look Francis… if I go over, I’ve seen a way I can get to the enemy… I know I can do it…I want to get out there and fight…”   
Francis looked at his young brother. He was so enthusiastic and bright, thinking he could go out there and everything would be fine. He looked into his young eyes, which spoke of hope, and a sense of duty and loyalty towards both France and England. All he could feel was that he had to protect Matthew, not send him out to fight a war he had nothing to do with… a war that he didn’t need to be in. It saddened him to think that he might want to go out there.  
“Matthew, do you know how many young men have died in this war?” Francis uttered “I wouldn’t want you to go over the top and something happen to you.”   
“So… you think I’m still a child…right?”   
He looked down and tried not to gaze at his younger brother in the eyes, and sighed deeply. “You don’t need to be in this war Matthew, you live in a peaceful part of the world. “ He said “It’s not that I think you’re a child, its… its… “   
“What is it then?” He asked.   
Francis finally sighed defeated in his arguments. He wanted to protect the young Canadian, not send him over the top to certain death. Instead of answering him, Francis laid down on his bunk and turned the other way, not ready to talk about it. Matthew went out to the trench for a smoke and some fresh air. There were many different soldiers of different nationalities in that trench, the English, the French, the Canadians and some Americans too, as they were part of an allied operation. Most of the men had seen some action, but he, Matthew hadn’t even fired his weapon. It made him feel inadequate in some ways.   
“I want you to send a message to command HQ…” Came a British voice behind him. It was Commander Kirkland, and he was in the middle of lots of different things.   
“ Yes sir Commander Kirkland Sir!” Matthew gasped being overly polite again, and he saluted.  
.   
“Tell them that the enemy have made their move… ten men are dead … and I recommend action within three days.” He said handing him a piece of paper. “We’re counting on you.”   
“Yes sir…” He replied. He could see the point in being the telegraph operator but he still wanted to go over the top. After going back inside, he sent the message and then thought about how he could be a real part of this war instead of always sending the messages and receiving them all the time. It was no good asking Francis for permission, he’d have to show him and all the others what he was made of, even if that meant going against orders.   
Francis still wasn’t talking to him. He lay on his bunk, pretending to be asleep, but he wasn’t. He was awake and facing the other way, thinking of Matthew when he was a child, how he needed his protection always, and he was always ready to give it. He recalled the little boy with his polar bear teddy, and how he had been such a gentle child, who it seemed had grown into a gentle adult, but still he couldn’t think of him as a grown man… not little Matthew. He loved the boy, and wanted to be the best big brother ever, and when he was younger, if anyone bullied him, he always counted on his big brother to be there, to sort everything out. Worst of all was the fact that young Matthew suffered from seizures, and because Francis wanted him to have a good life, he encouraged him to keep quiet about them, so that he wouldn’t be held back in life. He couldn’t help thinking that if he had done exactly the opposite, and allowed Matthew to be open about it, then he wouldn’t have been accepted into the army at all. He recalled he first time he witnessed it, when young Matthew was only 12 years old. He’d given him his supper and was reading to him to help him sleep, when his younger brother had his first seizure, a full grand mall convulsion as he lay in bed, after a happy day. First his eyes rolled back and his back arched, before his body was racked with violent spasms that he couldn’t control. This had happened many times, but never in public, and in that aspect Francis thought Matthew had been lucky that it hadn’t been found out. He couldn’t possibly let him go over the top.   
Matthew was waiting for a reply from HQ and thinking about how he could defy Francis, and his opportunity came sooner than he imagined. The reply came through a few moments later.  
“Commander Kirkland. Your orders are as follows. Three battallions, East, East by North East and South East. In two days.”   
That would be his chance. He resolved to defy Francis’ orders and get out there, and do some damage, and fight, doing what he knew he was capable of. He wrote the message out in full and returned it to Commander Kirkland who was waiting outside.   
“A message from HQ Commander Kirkland Sir.” He said and handed him the paper. The worried look on Arthur’s face said it all… he was going to have to send some more men to their deaths, and that was something he wasn’t going to let them do alone. He was going to go out there with his men and he knew it.   
“Damn…” He uttered. “Looks like we’re going over…” He sighed and then walked away.   
“What was that message?” Francis asked as Matthew returned to the bunker.   
“It was for Commander Kirkland… he’s going over the top in two days time.” Matthew said seriously. “I’d like to go with them Francis.”   
“That’s not a good idea… I forbid it… “ Francis replied.   
Matthew knew that would be the case, and just gave him a look of disappointment before going to bed, and ignoring his older brother all night.   
The next two days were intense, and the messages coming through the telegraph for Commander Kirkland were about a strategic attack on the enemy, he was to lead his troops across the Somme, to victory on the other side, he was given co ordinates and times, and Matthew knew exactly when and where everyone would be. Francis guessed what he might do, but didn’t want to say anything to him, however it worried him about what his younger brother might try to do. He watched him carefully and made sure he was never far away from him.   
“I didn’t know Matthew had been assigned here.” Commander Kirkland said interrupting the Frenchman’s thoughts. He offered Francis a cigarette and had one himself. “I thought they were keeping him at H.Q. What happened?”   
“He made them send him out here.” Francis replied. “I didn’t know till he arrived… and if I had I would have disallowed it…”  
“You can’t hold the kid back forever Francis.” Commander Kirkland replied. “Goodness knows I found that out when Alfred wanted his independence…”   
Arthur had no idea of Matthews seizures, or how vulnerable he was. Even though he’d helped Francis raise the boy, he was very distant and only helped out when needed. They were practically strangers at this point and he knew absolutely nothing about him.   
“This isn’t the same thing…” Francis replied. “You don’t understand… Matthew can’t go out there and fight… he…”   
Arthur stood there listening, but Francis couldn’t tell him about Matthew’s illness or anything. “He what?”   
“Nothing… I just don’t want him to go out there… he’s only a kid… “  
“Alright… we’ll make sure he doesn’t go over the top.” Arthur replied. “Keep him busy.” He said “But you’re going to have to let him grow up sometime…”   
Two days later, a thick fog had descended over the Somme, and Commander Kirkland lined up his troops ready to go over the top. 100 men, some of them French and some of them English, including himself, each and every one accounted for. He was prepared for what was going to happen now, and he didn’t want this at all, but he had to go through with orders.   
“When I blow this whistle…” He ordered his men “We attack. Are you ready?”   
Without waiting for an answer he blew the whistle and the men did as they were ordered, running over the top of the trench and into the battlefield, straight into a barrage of bullets and shells, as if somehow, the Prussian army had somehow intervened with the telegraph transmissions. It was like they knew when they were going to attack and were prepared for them. Commander Kirkland drew his handgun and ran alongside his countrymen, English and French, firing his weapon, dodging bullets and running fast.   
Unknown to him, Matthew Williams had defied his older brother’s orders and at the last moment, he joined the men who went over the top, determined to prove his worth on the battlefield. He ran alongside the other soldiers with his rifle in hand shooting at the enemy, and roaring out a battle cry. This was what he wanted, now he would prove to Francis, to Commander Kirkland, to everyone that he was strong and he could do this. He was as good as his twin, Alfred, and he was going to show them what he was really made of.   
It was not long before Francis realised Matthew was nowhere to be found and he had done exactly what he’d feared, defied orders and gone over the top with the battalions that Arthur was leading. Fear gripped the Frenchman’s heart. This was not what he signed up for, not Matthew… his young brother… why the boy was practically a son to him. Without a moments thought, he hauled himself up and over the trench, dodging the hail of bullets and shells to follow Matthew out into the wilderness of hell that he’d got himself into. At least if he could catch up with him he could try to protect him, to save him, to stop him from doing something stupid.   
It was chaos on the battlefield, bombs were going off everywhere, the noise was horrific and dodging the constant rain of bullets was running the gauntlet. Many men fell around him, many lives were being claimed by this horrific onslaught and there was no sign of Matthew anywhere. Eventually however he saw him in the distance, and he was on enemy territory. He couldn’t help but feel his heart swell with pride to think that young Matthew had made it so far, and was alright. Even so he was in even more danger on that side of the barbed wire, whatever he was trying to prove. Francis ran towards him with the intention of either joining him in his endeavours or somehow leading him to safety.  
“Matthew!” He cried running towards him. “Stop!” he yelled.   
Hearing the voice of his elder brother he turned around and grinned. “I made it Francis, see I told you I was strong enough, you should have believed me…”   
As he stood there Francis saw his younger brother stumble, and this was familiar to him because it was clearly the start of one of his seizures. He had to get there and help him as quickly as possible. He ran faster, still dodging bullets and shells and whatever else to get to him. As he approached the barbed wire, Matthew fell into it, convulsing hard, it was clearly a full on grand mal seizure, but Francis was still too far away from him. The next thing he saw was horrific. Some Prussian soldier fired at Matthew over and over, pumping bullets into his body, sadistically, with no emotion or remorse whatsoever, he shot him.   
Screaming out in horror, Francis shot at the soldier and killed him instantly, but kept shooting at him over and over to make sure the bastard was dead.   
Though death and darkness gathered all around him, Francis saw that Matthew was still alive, if only just, and he went to his aid, trying to free him from the barbed wire he’d got caught up in.   
“Matthew…” he cried, as tears flowed from his eyes “I’m here… attendez…attendez… I’m going to free you from this hell…” he wept. The barbed wire was horrific, it was like an endless hell trying to undo it and unwind it, as it wrapped itself around Matthew’s body during that inhuman attack. “Attendez!”   
Eventually he was getting somewhere, and was able to pick Matthew up from the ground, although some of that barbed wire was so stuck in him he had to remove the boy’s coat in order to free him.   
“I’ve got you… its alright.. I’ve got you…” He cried and held him, thinking of how he was going to get him to safety.   
“Francis…” groaned Matthew, his eyes looking distant, and his body racked with pain as he’d never felt in his life. “I…just wanted to make you proud of me…” he mumbled… as he gazed into his older brother’s eyes.   
“I am proud of you… Mon Dieu!” Uttered Francis, crying hard. “I always was…”   
At that moment more gunfire came out of nowhere and Matthew fell against the barbed wire once more as he was shot by machine gun fire this time.   
Horrified beyond belief, Francis screamed and screamed, his mind not able to make sense of what was happening. Matthew was being slaughtered right in front of him and there was nothing he could do, absolutely nothing. All he could see was poor Matthew’s body being pumped full of bullets, there was blood everywhere, and all over him… his mind just couldn’t handle it.   
“MATTHEW!!!” he screamed over and over, till the onslaught seemed to stop. Commander Kirkland had appeared from nowhere with a rifle and was just shooting at anything that moved, shooting … killing whoever it was in the bushes that had done this to Matthew.   
In the aftermath, in the cold, and the smoke that followed, crying heartily, Francis took his younger brothers body in his arms and laid him on the freezing ground. This couldn’t really have happened could it? Was he really seeing this? Matthew was dead? He stood up, trembling, shaking, completely and utterly shell shocked. He just couldn’t handle it at all.   
Commander Kirkland dropped his spent weapon, gasping for breath, and also shocked beyond belief. Slowly he turned and saw Francis backing off, and he didn’t look good at all, he looked terrible, he’d never seen him in such a state.   
“Francis?” He uttered and glanced at Matthew’s mutilated body. He couldn’t look at it… he couldn’t take it in… he had to somehow take him back and look after him but Francis needed him too.   
“Francis wait…” Arthur uttered as he moved towards him.   
The Frenchman clearly wasn’t himself, it was as though he didn’t even recognise Arthur, as they stood there on that field. He let out a little sob, clearly shocked and terrified, and in the worst state he’d ever been in his life. He didn’t wait, he ran off into the fog, into the field… and he didn’t know where he was going to go or how, all he knew was he had to run.   
Arthur ran after him into the fog, but it was impossible to see where he had gone, as it had become thick and nothing could be seen… only the hell of the war around could be heard, and the screams of the dying…   
The commander knew what he had to do… he had to go after Francis… he knew what happened to deserters in the war… and should Francis get caught by the enemy or his own countrymen, he would be shot…unless Arthur could find him first…


	2. Shoot the Runner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur finds a very broken Francis in the woods and realises he has to kill him because he is a deserter and he can't bear the thought of him being lined up and shot with other deserters on a rifle range..

Lost in the fog, Arthur kept walking, no idea if he was going in the right direction or where Francis might have gone. The killing for the moment had stopped and he came across some red cross workers taking care of the wounded. He told them where Matthew was and sent them to collect his body. It was the most heart-breaking thing he'd ever had to witness. All around the battlefield were strewn the bodies of innocent men, all of whom died for their country, in such a pointless way. This was the reality of war, of the terrible conflict, the human cost, the real horror… Never in his entire life had Commander Kirkland felt so alone, and so helpless as he did in those moments, the thoughts of Matthew wrapped up in the barbed wire… his life extinguished were too much to bear. If he could hardly deal with it, Francis was going through much worse… that was true. Still he kept walking through what seemed like an endless hell. In this state, it seemed like death would be a better option than to go through any more fighting and killing, and he could understand why so many of his men and those of the other side too, were deserting.

"Fuck you…" He gasped in breathy tones, as he removed his cap, and threw it down on the ground as if to symbolise that he was giving up, that he didn't want to fight any more. "Fuck you all…"

No words could describe the hellish pain in his heart at that moment. Even so, something kept him going, because Francis was out there, and though he didn't care a for himself so much, he knew that if he deserted, and if Francis did, then they would be shot on sight. Those were the rules, that was the brutal reality of life in the Army… death if you go to war, and death if you don't. One thing was for sure, he didn't want Francis to go through this alone.

In a clearing in a forest Francis sat on some rocks near a small stream. He hadn't realised how cold he was, or how broken, till his mind re-asserted itself and he found himself probably miles away from where he had started out. He really couldn't remember anything of the past day or so, and he might have walked a long way from his original location. He was alone, and felt lost, and empty. The last thought in his mind, of his little brother Matthew… the horrific way he died, was still prominent in his mind, and instead of seeing what was in front of him, it was like his mind was hallucinating, going over the past, witnessing once again his life, how he'd been there for him growing up, the tears, the laughter, little Matthew… everything… and then over and over, seeing him perish on the battlefield.

He slumped down on the rocks, his mind elsewhere, his heart broken. He rolled a cigarette and lit it, trying to deal with the enormous mental pressure he was under, trying to somehow see a way through but there wasn't one, this had to be the end.

"Mind if I join you?" He heard a voice behind him. Through sheer persistence, Arthur had followed his instincts and found him there, in the woods, alone, and lost.

Francis looked round and saw him but he couldn't speak, he just nodded and Arthur approached him. He also lit a cigarette and they sat there for what felt like a long time, not speaking at all, just alone together.

"I'm not going back…" Francis started to say "War is hell… die if I stay, die if I don't… its all the same… but I won't pick up a weapon again…"

"I don't want you to be shot for desertion." Arthur replied. "That's what will happen you know… if you don't come back with me." He uttered "And if you are deserting, its my duty to kill you."

"So be it." Francis replied. "You'll have to kill me Arthur because I'm not going back with you…"

"Is there nothing I can do to persuade you?" Arthur replied as he took out his handgun. His state of mind wasn't fully compus mentus, and he was acting on automatic pilot, his emotions felt non-existent at this time.

"You don't want to go back either I can tell." Francis replied. "You're so caught up in doing your duty…"

Arthur was lost, and knew only that if he didn't shoot Francis now, he would be lined up with several others on a rifle range and killed that way, or the enemy would get there first… perhaps it would be better if the Frenchman died at his hand… he aimed the gun, with the intent to shoot.

Francis looked at the gun and then back to Arthur's emotionless face. "Matthew was mine." He uttered. "A mere child… no one deserves to die like that." He uttered. "I didn't tell you he had epilepsy, did I?" Francis uttered as he smoked his cigarette. "He shouldn't have even been on the battlefield… and that is my fault." He said as he took off his jacket. "He was like a son to me, but to you he was nothing… I know it. It's not like someone like you is ever going to understand… you emotionless bastard."

Arthur listened to what he was saying and it was going in, it was affecting him, but only he knew nothing could be further from the truth. He wasn't emotionless at all… still he aimed the gun but hesitated.

"I keep thinking of the time I couldn't get him what he wanted for his birthday… it was just a stupid little wooden car… and he was five…" Francis said as he recalled that time "I ended up trying to make him one… it was not the best but he loved it…" he said fondly. Arthur could remember doing those kinds of things for young Alfred too, and that definitely had an effect on him. He loved Matthew too, but he was Francis' heart.

"He wasn't nothing…" Arthur whispered, his voice husky and tears forming in his eyes. "I loved him too…"

"You love no one." Francis replied as he undid the buttons of his shirt, revealing his chest. "Shoot Englishman… shoot now…"

"That's not true Francis…" He uttered, his body trembling, his hand hardly able to hold the gun. "I loved Matthew… Alfred… I… I… love my people… my country…"

"This war?" Francis said, the light in his eyes now completely gone.

"I came here to defend you…to fight for you…for us…" He whispered shakily. "I did it out of love…"

"And what would you know about love?" Francis sighed "Shoot now… kill me Arthur… I deserve no less than your wrath." He said as he looked into his eyes. "As a deserter… "

"Why…?" Arthur struggled to say, his resolve breaking, his legendary façade disappearing. "I can't shoot you.. " he sobbed and dropped the gun.

Francis watched him, his bare chest heaving up and down with emotion. "I know…" he replied "And I'm still not going back…" he uttered before picking up his coat, with intent to walk away.

"Where are you going? You can't possibly get through on your own…" Arthur cried "Where are you going to go?"

Francis had no answer for him, as he looked over to him, the tears were streaming down his face, and he couldn't speak. It was evident that he had absolutely no idea what he was going to do. Arthur stepped in front of him. "If you aren't coming back… I'm going with you…" he whispered huskily, his words interspersed with little sobs. "I won't let you go through this alone…"


	3. Make Love not War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well.. they make love not war...

Francis pushed him away at first. "I have to go on alone…" Francis replied. "If you come with me you will also be shot for being a deserter… you do realise this?"

"Shot for deserting or shot for continuing the war… either way I'm a dead man…" Arthur replied, looking him in the eye. "And I refused to shoot you… so I'm already a traitor… "

The two men didn't have a plan or any future whatsoever, so they kept walking, just to survive, just to stay alive, as they didn't have any choice. Finding food was going to be a problem, and a place to rest, to sleep, to take care of things was also going to be a problem. For days they lived off the land and did their best to keep clean by washing using spring water, but it was cold and they had to be quick. They set traps for small animals and relied on their army training to set up temporary shelters and camps, and made a lean-to out of wood so they could sleep. Their clothes were torn and bloodied and they couldn't find nearly enough food, so what they did have was rationed.

"We can't live like this…" Arthur uttered as they ate the remains of some small animal they had trapped earlier that day. They sat in front of a makeshift fire that they had managed to light. "We have to find somewhere to go…somewhere to stay…."

"What do you suggest?" Francis asked. He had to agree that this was no way to live.

"Something…anything… " Arthur replied. "Is there a town nearby…?"

"There might be." Francis replied "Or a small village at least…" he said "I thought I saw smoke rising on the horizon before we settled down for the night… we can check it out in the morning."

That night they lay under the stars, it was quiet and hardly a sound disturbed them but for the night owls and small animal noises. It was a clear cold and crisp night, the only warmth came from the fire and the fact that their lean to was quite efficient in blocking out some of the cold. They slept in their own areas of the lean to, but it was very cold.

"Arthur…" whispered Francis as he woke up in the middle of the freezing cold night. "Are you cold?"

"Mm…" He murmured as he felt the Frenchman move close to him, but it wasn't bad, it was comforting to feel his body so close, and soon they were huddling together for warmth. Arthur liked the feel of Francis' arms around him like that, and their body heat kept them warm. He turned and let Francis huddle closer still, and the Frenchman snuggled up to his chest. Arthur couldn't help but place his hand upon Francis' head gently, like a reaction. He could sense this wasn't just to keep warm… he needed something, he needed to be held and Arthur wanted to hold him.

"It's just you and me Francis…" Arthur whispered. "I'm here for you…"

He could hear him crying in the darkness, gently sobbing into his chest, and it got worse and worse, till he was shaking and choking in his arms.

"M…Matthew…." Sobbed Francis "I just can't stop thinking about what happened to M..Matthew…" he cried. "Mon Dieu… he… his last words Arthur… he said…he wanted to make me proud… that's what he said…"

Arthur held him and let him cry those terrible awful tears for Matthew. Silently he cried too, but he wanted to be strong for Francis, as this had to be worse for him. He held him tighter and wiped Francis' unstoppable tears with the back of his hand as he let him talk of Matthew. "I couldn't save him Arthur, God knows I tried… I was too late… " he wept, his hand curled up on Arthur's chest as he grabbed at his shirt, becoming increasingly wet with his tears. "And there was nothing I could do…"

"I know…" whispered Arthur as he gently kissed Francis' forehead… "I know you tried…so hard…" he said so tenderly. Francis realised that he had just kissed his head, and he looked up at him, his eyes tearful, and his body shaking. He looked into Arthur's equally tearful eyes and saw something there he couldn't quite explain. The next thing either of them knew, their lips were locked together, in a kiss, a deep, inescapable French kiss that encapsulated both of them in a moment neither of them would ever forget. Neither of them pulled away and instead deepened the kiss. Eventually they did break for a moment and Francis gazed into Arthurs eyes. "Is it alright…?"

As if to somehow answer him, Arthur cupped his cheek and kissed him again, another deep and loving French kiss. "Francis… I love you…" he uttered. "I love you and by God I'll die with you out here… if I must…"

"I love you too…" Francis replied in shaky breaths "Je t'aime…" he whispered and kissed him again, the two men finding comfort in each other in the darkness. Arthur allowed him to do whatever he wanted, and he embraced every moment of their lovemaking. Francis needed this, and Arthur did too, and through their hell and grief, they found something beautiful and special, something to strive for, something to live for…

Afterwards, Francis lay encapsulated in Arthurs arms as he lay turned to the fire, with Arthur protectively spooning him to keep him warm. He had stopped crying but he was still very tormented by what had happened, and that they could never go back. He never wanted that moment to end, and wished it could have lasted for an eternity. He dearly loved the man with him now, more than anything in the world. During the night Francis woke up in tears several times, only to find them being kissed away by his Arthur whose comforting presence seemed to make everything better.

"It's alright sweetheart…" Arthur whispered comfortingly. "I'm not going anywhere… I'll never leave you…" he said gently.

Francis turned to him and snuggled up to his chest to feel his heartbeat, and his love, though he knew life would be a struggle from now on, and their love would have to be a secret from everyone, should they find a way forward, should they survive. It was going to be difficult but having Arthur there with him, somehow he knew they could make it.


	4. Trauma Unending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find a village and steal some food and clothes... Francis is traumatised badly.

They awoke at first light , still wrapped in each others arms, the fire by this time was out and it was quite cold. They lay together in the lean to for a bit longer just to be with each other, and talk a little.

"I regret nothing." Arthur said and kissed Francis on the lips. He responded and kissed him back, holding on to him for the comfort he still needed. Arthur held him tight like he didn't want to let him go, he just wanted to be there with him always.

"What we did last night…" Francis began… "I want you to know…"

"What we did was special Francis." Arthur replied.

"Oui.. it was Mon Cher…" Francis sighed and looked into his eyes. "But I want you to know I have loved you for a long time… it was not just one night…"

Arthur felt his heart beat a little faster in his chest and he stroked Francis' cheek gently, as he looked into his eyes. "I think I loved you the same way… " he uttered. "Only now we are here in this place… and its just you and I… with no one else to rely on but each other…" Arthur half whispered. "I couldn't let you do it alone… I won't."

Francis started to weep a little and Arthur brushed his tears away. "Its alright…" He said tenderly. "I'll always be here…"

"What are we going to do now?" Francis uttered as he turned to his Englishman for comfort, burying his head in his chest. "Is it all lost for us?"

"I hope not my love." Arthur replied in reassuring tones. "Did you say there was maybe a town or village nearby?"

"I thought I saw smoke on the horizon… " He answered, a few miles East from here.

"Then that's where we'll be heading today. If we can get some decent food and clothes and maybe… find help… we can't go back to our unit that's for sure… "

Francis slowly sat up as the morning light lit everything up in a dawn glow, it was an incredibly beautiful morning… if a little cold. "Up until last night, I was just surviving Arthur…" He said "I don't know what I was doing… I don't remember half of it… but you've given me hope… I want to live… I don't want to die…"

Arthur got up and put out their meagre rations for breakfast… it wasn't much, a little meat and a couple of small apples that didn't taste of much and they sat eating and drinking what little water they had. After this they destroyed the lean to they had made for that night and dispersed the ashes from the fire. Staying close together they walked for over an hour before they came across the village. It wasn't very big at all, a few streets and houses, but they knew they would probably be conspicuous if they just walked into it.

"I say we take the back streets, stay out of sight of the main ones…" Francis uttered as they approached. "If we meet anyone and they speak to us, I should do the talking.. no offence Arthur but your French is a little off…"

"I know." Arthur replied. "I'd never pass for a frog like you…" he joked, and laughed. Francis chuckled too, for the first time in ages.

"Hey… you're smiling again." Arthur said and hugged him. "We must be doing something right."

"Oui…" He replied and pulled him close. "Thank you…"

"And thank you…" Replied Arthur. "Come on… lets see if we can find somewhere to use like a base or something… Anywhere… a basement… a place to shelter…"

After sneaking around the village and trying to keep out of sight, which wasn't easy, Francis spotted what looked like a disused barn at the other side of the village, that looked like it was a bit dilapidated. They went inside and found that there were bales of hay in there, but the place looked deserted, as if no one had been in there for years. They decided to use that as their base, somewhere to stay whilst they procured the items they needed somehow. Clothes, food, possible new identities… anything that would disguise them from the enemy, or from their own unit.

"How are we going to get what we need if we do not have any money?" Francis wondered "I am sure no one is going to just give us things…"

"You'd be surprised." Arthur said in reply "But we aren't going to rely on the good charity of the people of the village… we're going to take what we need."

"Steal it?"

"There's no other way." He replied. "We have to."

Soon housewives of the village were left wondering what happened to the washing they had just hung out, and soon Arthur had managed to find two sets of clothes to keep them warm, so they could get out of their torn and bloodied uniforms. They still had to wash in a nearby stream but at least they had civilian clothes, that may have been a bit ill-fitting, but anything was better than what they had.

"Right…" Arthur said as he combed his mop of hair and handed Francis the comb as they had only one between them. "The next thing to do is get food… somehow… and I have an idea…"

"What?"

"I saw a store in the town… its just a little shop, but they have what we need… so one of us needs to distract the shopkeeper whilst the other gets the food… " He said "Like you were saying my love… if we need to communicate… you have to do the talking…"

Soon afterwards they went into the little shop where the old French bespectacled owner was in charge behind the counter, Francis had to somehow distract him, get him to go round the back for something. He approached the counter and in a friendly way started chatting to the owner though Arthur couldn't really understand what they were saying as they were talking far to fast and in French, so it was difficult to pick up on what they were talking about. Eventually the old man went to the back of the shop, and when he did so, Arthur bounded over the counter and quickly grabbed a few items then they ran out of there as fast as they could. It was a few minutes before the shopkeeper realised what had happened, and by then they were long gone.

That night they ate well, bread, meat and cheese, and they even had managed to get a bottle of wine. Camping out in the old disused barn was a little better than a lean to, or being out in the cold at night.

"Well… its better than nothing…" Arthur said as he drank his wine and handed the bottle to Francis. "We might just get away with this… "

"The shopkeeper will recognise us you know." Francis replied "We won't be able to do that again… we'll have to think of some other way."

"Yeah true." Arthur said as he lit an old oil lamp. It would have to do for light and a makeshift fire in the barn was lit for heat, keeping it well away from the bales of hay that could catch fire if they weren't careful. It was a whole lot warmer and more comfortable than the previous nights they had spent out in the wilderness. They rested on a comfortable bale of hay and Arthur put his arm around Francis, holding him close. Slowly, after tender kisses and comfort, the Frenchman closed his eyes and fell asleep on him, Arthur kissed his forehead and snuggled up to him. However it was not to be a comfortable night as they had hoped for.

Francis awoke later that night; the fire was fading and the light from the lamp had nearly gone out too. Arthur lay sleeping in his arms and it was a quiet night. He got up and stood at the door of the barn, just to look out on to the landscape, to see the stars and to think of poor Matthew… poor boy… Flashes of what happened kept coming into his mind as he stood there, and he kept thinking of him when he was a child. In the distance someone was walking towards him, he was far away but Francis recognised the uniform, and as the person came closer he realised it was Matthew, but he didn't have any feet, his body disappeared below the knees and he was trying to speak but there was no sound. Paralysed with fear, Francis tried to move but he couldn't, and Matthew, or his ghost or whatever that was, got closer and closer. It might have looked like the boy he knew, and moved like him but Francis was terrified, it was something else… something Daemonic, or at least that's what it felt like. In a moment he was back on the battlefield watching Matthew being shot to hell in amongst the barbed wire again.

"NO!" he screamed out at the top of his voice, and woke up – for real this time, next to Arthur. He hadn't moved at all, it had been a nightmare, but it was still going on. He could see Matthew standing in the barn, trying to speak but not speaking. The shock and the terror was so much, that all he could do was scream and scream and scream till his lungs hurt like hell. Arthur grabbed a hold of him and held him close to his chest, though Francis tried to fight him. He punched him in the chest and the stomach and tried to hurt him but eventually he calmed and cried heartily into his chest.

"Its alright Francis… it was a nightmare… a nightmare…. I'm here…" Arthur said in reassuring tones, even though Francis was throwing punches left, right and centre. He didn't let him go and he hugged him till he calmed.

"He was here…" He mumbled "I saw him… I s..saw.. him.." he wept into Arthurs chest.

"Shhh… You had a nightmare… I'm right here Francis…" Arthur whispered and kept holding him, letting him cry deeply. It was clear he was traumatised, and more than that. He had never seen him so affected by anything, and it was affecting him too. He had heard of this new theory of something called shell shock…could it be that was what poor Francis was suffering from?

The Englishman held him all night and didn't let go. Francis needed him… and by God he needed Francis too.


	5. On the Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis is having a really hard time with shell shock but they have to try to escape from their own unit and the Prussians.

Six days they hid out in the barn, stealing food and using the stream for their water. It was far from ideal but it gave them time to figure out what they had to do. It was becoming increasingly clear that Francis in particular was not well at all. Sometimes he seemed to be alright and even talkative but other times he would shut down completely, and this worried Arthur a lot. It got to the point where Arthur was going out alone to get them food and Francis was finding it difficult to even move some days. Arthur supported him as best he could but he knew he couldn't do this forever, not here in this barn where they could be discovered by the enemy or their own troops.

"I have an idea…" He said the next day as he packed what little they had into a bag he'd managed to steal. "We can go to my place…we'll be safe there…"

Francis looked up at him with a distant gaze in his eyes. "What?" He mumbled "Won't your brothers turn us in..?"

"If I know them, no they won't. All we have to do is get to England… and we can hide out there at least till all this is over." Arthur replied. "Look its not the best of plans… but it's all I've got Francis…" He uttered. "While I was in the village today I thought I saw troops approaching from the West. If they find us here we could be dead by this evening."

The Frenchman stood up and looked out of the cracks in the barn walls, and he could see that there were a few troops closing in . It was like they had stopped and were lighting cigarettes and laughing. He recognised them as allies.

"Do you think they are looking for us?" He asked, his voice fearful. "They have…guns…"

"It's likely they think we perished on the battlefield. but I don't want to stay here and be found out…" He said with urgency in his voice. He took Francis' hand and they exited through the back way of the barn, making sure the soldiers couldn't see them. They managed to keep out of sight but had to get quite close to them in order to escape into the nearby woods, even having to duck down behind one of the trucks. They had to stay down at one point whilst one of the men radioed in to H.Q.

"There is evidence that Commander Kirkland came this way…" he was saying. "We found his gun and his uniform coat in the woods…and then we found Bonnefoy's uniform, torn and bloodied. They are here alright… we think close by. Awaiting orders…over."

"Proceed to location , over." Came the reply.

Arthur heard every word and his heart sank. "Oh shit..." he uttered. They were looking for them after all. As soon as they radio operator was gone, Arthur urged Francis to move quickly before they were spotted. "Go, go, go…" he hissed as they ran quickly and quietly past them and into the trees. As Arthur turned around he saw them enter the barn to search it.

"Mother of God…" He muttered as he ran with Francis through the woods. After running for some time they stopped to catch their breath. "Right… the plan is we head for England… I know my family there will keep us safe. It's going to be dangerous…"

"I don't want to go…" Francis uttered and sank to his knees, still mentally exhausted. He couldn't think straight and held his head in his hands, in tears. Over the past week or so, this had happened so many times, and he could barely function. "I can't…"

"You have to…" Arthur whispered gently removing Francis hands from his face, and holding them in his own. "Matthew would have wanted you to… and I want you to…"

"I can't Arthur… I want them to find me… and kill me…"

"What would make Francis feel better?" Arthur thought and the answer came instantly, without saying a word, he gently swept the Frenchman's hair from his face and kissed him on the lips a few times, just little kisses, but full of passion.

"Remember that I love you …" Arthur uttered. "How can I go on without you? Hmm?"

He sat there with him for a few minutes. It was practically impossible for him to move when he felt like that, but thankfully the soldiers were not searching for them in that area of the woods so keeping a lookout, he allowed him some time to calm.

"What does it feel like?" he asked as he held him.

"Like I am dead…" mumbled Francis in reply. "My body won't move no matter how much I tell it to."

Arthur had never heard of such a thing, but he knew just telling him to get over it or pull himself together was not right. Something was causing his body and his mind to shut down in these stressful situations, something that he couldn't help with, and Francis seemed helpless against. He wasn't angry with him, he was concerned and worried.

"I'll help you okay?" He said as he tried to get him to his feet. "Just hold on to me, you will be alright I promise…"

Eventually they managed to get going again. With no transport and the coast so far away it would be difficult, but they had to keep going, or die. Arthur wasn't ready to give up just yet. He had to look out for himself and Francis, and somehow get him to a doctor in England. One thing was for sure, they would be safer there than anywhere else, at least in Arthur's mind that was the case.

Francis could feel nothing but his body so heavy, and his head ached terribly. All he could see was images of Matthew, that plagued his thoughts daily. He could hear shells and bombs going off where there were none and everything seemed hopeless. Arthur was practically dragging him through the woods, making him move when he could barely stand, hauling him up when he wanted to fall.

Eventually they came to another village and being low on food and supplies, it was inevitable that they would have to go there and procure some from the local shop. Summoning up every ounce of strength that he had, Francis managed to walk on his own into the village, with Arthur keeping an eye on him.

"Do you feel up to doing this?" Arthur whispered. "I mean… we can go back if you want and wait…"

"I will be okay…" He replied. "I would rather do this now than later…" he said "while I feel like I can…"

They got to the store and went inside, and Francis was chatting to the shopkeeper whilst Arthur took some items, confident that he wasn't looking, however, things changed pretty quickly. As he went to get some bread, he dropped it and the shopkeeper realised what was happening. For protection the man had a gun in the shop under the counter, he grabbed it and aimed it at Arthur, thinking maybe he was an enemy soldier in disguise.

"Put that down and step away from the shelves." He growled. "I spend my life running this shop and I'm not going to be robbed by a bastard like you…" He said "Who do you think you are?"

"Please…" Arthur began as he backed off, his arms laden with foodstuffs. "We are lost and alone and we only wanted to eat… we…"

The shopkeeper could understand him but realised he was English, and not only that, being the age he appeared, he should have been fighting. He quickly realised he was dealing with deserters, and cocked his gun. Arthur stepped back and fell down, raising his hands instinctively to protect himself and breathing fast.

Francis watched all this, his heart racing and his mind going into overdrive. When the shopkeeper pulled the gun on Arthur, and he saw him fall over he really thought the guy was going to shoot him, and his mind suddenly went a total blank.

When he came to, he was standing over the bloodied and unconscious shopkeeper, and the gun was elsewhere in the shop, thrown across the room. Francis' fists were covered in the shopkeepers blood and he was being held back by Arthur who was screaming at him and crying. "Stop! For the love of God Francis… Stop! Stop!" he yelled. Eventually he managed to gain control, Arthur held him and wept a little before picking up the gun. The shopkeeper lay on the floor of his shop, beaten and bloodied.

"What have I done?" whimpered Francis realising that he must have hit him, and more than just the once.

"You were protecting ME Francis…" Arthur said in hushed tones, as he reached out to him. "Don't worry I don't think he's dead… you were just protecting me…"

"But I don't remember…" he uttered, his voice wavering. "Why don't I remember?" He said "Look at him… what have I done?"

He was shaking badly and crying, Arthur too was in a state. And just as this was happening two Prussian soldiers opened the door, laughing and joking with one another. Till they turned and saw the scene. Immediately one of them went for his rifle but Arthur aimed the gun he had at them. "Hand over your weapons…" He said, although they didn't really understand him, eventually they realised he wanted their guns. He also took their cigarettes and their money, in case he and Francis needed it. Picking up the food he'd gathered earlier, and a blanket he'd found behind the counter, he escorted Francis from the shop. As soon as they had gone, the soldiers ran out of there but they couldn't see where they had gone. Now the Prussian army would be on the lookout for them as well as their own. They were in grave danger.

"I don't remember what happened…" Francis uttered as they walked along the country path, trying to keep to the back roads rather than go through anywhere they might be seen. "I just thought he was going to kill you and…and…"

Arthur recalled what had happened. "I was on the floor… and I don't mind admitting I was terrified. I thought he was going to shoot me and… clearly so did you." He said as he told him everything "You grabbed his hand with the gun and threw it across the room, and you hit him a few times… that's all… don't worry I don't think you killed him…"

"He was going to fire at you… " Francis uttered as they sat down and Arthur started to gather things for the fire. "And then I just blacked out… I completely blacked out Arthur…" He cried looking at his bloodied hands. "What's happening to me?"

"I don't know …" Arthur uttered in reply and held him. "But when we get back to England I'll get you a good doctor I promise…"

"We aren't going to make it across the channel…" whispered Francis… "We just…aren't"

"Don't say that now…" Arthur replied as he tried to make them comfortable. This was going to be another night out in the cold, so he set about making another lean-to for at least a little shelter.

"And I got some money from those two men… there's about 100 francs… and we can do a lot with that." He continued "Don't worry, we'll make it…" He said with a smile. Although he knew that it was possible upon landing in England they would be shot on sight, he hoped that he could protect Francis better from there and that his citizens would realise who he was.

Once again that evening, Francis turned to him for comfort and Arthur gave it readily, for he needed it too.

"I don't know what I would do without you Arthur." Francis sighed as he let the Englishman kiss him and hold him. It was all he needed, just to be held, to be loved, to be reassured. Arthur was everything to him and he felt dependent on him, but he was also anxious.

"I hope nothing happens to you Mon Cher…" He whispered, his voice wavering slightly. "Don't leave me alone…"

"I love you Francis…" He uttered as he held him. "I'll never leave you…"

They laid down together under the only blanket they had, and Arthur made love to his Frenchman, slowly, gently and with great care, because he needed that love, he needed to feel it. Francis lay on his side with his eyes closed, Arthur protecting him, moving with him, and he moved so that things were easier for his lover, and in those moments nothing was needed more. When they had reached climax, Arthur held him tight and they stayed like that under that little blanket.

Arthur knew it might be another rough night for Francis but he was prepared for it, whether he had a nightmare or woke up screaming or whatever it was. "I'll take care of you darling." He whispered and Francis turned and snuggled up to his chest.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Which way should this go now?

1\. They make it to England and to safety

2\. Something tragic happens on the way

3.. Everybody dies


	6. Dead Mines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur wakes up and finds Francis gone, and he's in a dangerous minefield, so he risks his life to go and get him as he is paralysed with fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to "Dead Man Theme" by Neil Young

Arthur awoke later that night, and it was very cold. The lean-to offered little protection against the frost but cuddling together made it warmer, except Francis wasn't there, and Arthur was alone.

"Francis?" He gasped suddenly afraid, not only for himself but for Francis, the state he was in, he might get lost or hurt without him. "Francis…? Francis?" Arthur was panicking already, because it was difficult to see anything and it was really dark, the silence was heavy with fear.

"Where are you? Oh God…" he uttered, his heart beating too fast, and adrenalin coursing through his veins. He crawled out of the makeshift lean-to and it was even colder and darker outside, or at least it seemed that way. A thick fog had descended upon the land making things even more difficult. Shivering with the intense cold and worried for the man he loved, Arthur studied the ground, to see if there was some indication of the direction he had gone in, and there was a disturbance in the frost, which gave him a clue. Once again following his instincts he set off in search of Francis. He was so worried and upset and all he could do was cry, but he had to be strong now, he had to find him.

As he was walking he almost stepped on something buried in the ground, panicking even more when he realised what it was. "A land mine…" he gasped "Shit…" He uttered realising that if he'd stepped on it then he would have been blown to holy hell.

"Francis…" he gasped, the fear in his heart almost choking him. If he almost stepped on it, then heaven only knows how many more were out there. "Oh God…" he whispered

Francis had no idea what was going on, he found himself alone and wandering in the darkness with no idea how he'd got there, the confusion in his mind was overwhelming. As he slowly regained consciousness he cried out as the fear gripped him like a pain in his chest. He screamed hard, unable to make sense of anything, and he was so terribly afraid.

Arthur heard him, and thankfully he wasn't too far away.

"Francis!" he yelled out. The Frenchman felt his heart skip a beat, he was going to follow Arthur's voice, it would be alright.

"Arthur… where are you?" He cried, moving towards him.

"Francis be fucking careful!" He screamed "There's land mines!"

He stopped abruptly, breathing fast, and hard, the steam from his breath filling the freezing air. He couldn't move.

"Arthur?" he cried in fear and panic. "Help me!"

"I'm coming to you, for fuck sake just stay where you are will you?" Screamed Arthur. He had to be really careful, every step was dangerous

Francis couldn't just stand there, he took a few steps forward. "Arthur!" he cried "Where are you?" he yelled, unable to make sense of anything, nor was he being as careful as he should have been. He only just missed stepping on one of the land mines and stumbled and fell thankfully not hitting the mine. Arthur carefully made his way through towards him, as the sun began to rise on the horizon making everything a bit clearer. Soon he saw Francis sitting on the ground shaking and terrified. He raised a hand as if to tell Arthur to stop. There was a mine right nest to him and he was afraid to move.

Arthur saw it there and approached cautiously, as there may have been more unseen mines. One slow step after another and he managed eventually to get there, though Francis was terrified and unable to move. Arthur knelt down next to him and took his hand. "Come on…" he uttered. "Stand up.."

"I...c…can't…." he replied, afraid to even make one move.

"It will only go off if you step on it ok?"

"How m… many are there?" Cried Francis. He was so terrified, he could barely speak.

"A few… but its alright, I got through it… you can get through it too… I'll show you…"

Though extremely afraid Francis reached out and allowed Arthur to help him to his feet, and they walked back through the minefield being very careful till they got back to their camp.

"What the hell happened?" Arthur eventually asked him. "How did you end up out there?"

"Oh I don't know…" Francis sighed as he sat down inside their lean-to. "I just woke up and… I was there … "

"Sleepwalking." Arthur uttered "Something is really wrong isn't it?" he sighed as he sat with him and put his arms around him, holding him as he wept, feeling quite useless and unable to help him in any way. He just felt that everything he said or did wasn't helping at all.

"Come on Francis you've got to get a grip, you need to pull yourself together… this can't keep happening… I could have lost you…" Arthur cried as he held on to him. "Please try for me … please…"

The Frenchman nodded and tried to suppress his feelings, tried to shut up, tried to keep it all inside but he knew he wasn't like Arthur. He couldn't deal with emotions like Arthur could. He had no idea how he could switch them off, work with them or through them. He just was a slave to his passions.

"You listen to me…." Arthur said "We're going to head for the coast… it should be no more than a days walk from here… and we're going to get passage to England… where we can hide out… and we'll be safe…" he said "I just need you to hold on ok… just hold on…"

"But I put myself in danger… I put you in danger… how can you put up with me when I keep doing this fucking shit…and I can't stop!" Francis uttered through his tears. "I'm a liability… you ought to go on without me…"

"You're not a liability you're the man I love…" Arthur replied. "There is no way I am going to leave you behind… "

"You're so much stronger than I am…"

"Is that what you think?" Arthur asked. "Look at me…"

Francis did as he asked and looked up to him kneeling there beside him, his eyes red and puffy and tearstained. "Oh …Arthur… I didn't mean… " he uttered realising Arthur wasn't mad at him or annoyed or emotionless, he was crying too… he cared.

"I know…and I love you." Arthur uttered as he took him in his arms and kissed him deeply. "You are everything to me, and I could have lost you… that was the worst feeling in the world Francis…so you have to stay with me alright?"

"Yes…" sniffed Francis. "Thank you Arthur…"

"We'll go in the opposite direction to that minefield… stay well away from them ok?"

"Okay…" he whispered. "Je t'aime…."

"Je t'aime Francis…" Arthur replied and kissed him again. "Don't you go off on your own again ok… we stick together… even if we have to bind ourselves… got that?"

With that, Arthur gathered up the few items they had in a bag and they set off, as far away from the minefield as possible…

Or so they believed…


	7. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freedom is but a step away, but it is never that simple is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to The End by the Doors

It was quite a cold day, in fact freezing, and foggy too, and that made everything ten times more difficult than it might have been, had there been sunshine. Francis and Arthur walked arm in arm and stuck to the back roads. It wasn't easy as they were on high alert in case there were any more land mines. However, it seemed that they had taken the right road, and none were waiting, and as the fog cleared, they were able to get their bearings. Stopping at a local village they were able to spend some of the money they'd acquired, to get warm coats and gloves and something warm to drink and a rest. The coast was not so far away and they started to feel a little more relaxed.

"I'm just glad we don't have to steal anything anymore…" Francis said as he drank his coffee. They sat outdoors of a small café, not daring to go inside, rather sitting outside where they could run at a moments notice if they needed to. "What happens when we get back to your place?" He asked.

"Well… we hide out till the war is over…and maybe… maybe…" Arthur said as he gazed at Francis in the morning sunshine. His hair was falling over his shoulders and his eyes seemed to somehow draw him in. He was beautiful, and it took Arthurs breath away. "…maybe…." He whispered as he reached over and stroked his cheek.

Francis blinked and smiled slowly, this was lovely, and it made him feel special to be loved like this. "Maybe?" He asked innocently.

"Maybe we could get married…" Arthur whispered "Just us… you and me… "

"Married?" Francis uttered "I'd like that…"

"Would you live with me in my home? Be mine forever?" Arthur asked "Would you marry me?"

"I would…" Francis replied. "If that was possible…"

"If that was possible…" Arthur repeated "No one needs to know. Just us." He said softly so that no one could hear. "I love you." He said moving closer. "And I know I'm not going to love anyone else as long as I live." He whispered.

Francis blushed a little but he loved this so much and he loved Arthur with every ounce of his being. "Je T'aime…" he whispered "Hearing you say this is making me very happy…" He said as he felt that little flutter in his chest. "You have saved my life Mon Cher… I owe it to you… and I will gladly give it…"

"It's good to see you smile… " Arthur replied. "I'm so worried for you…" he said and stroked his cheek again. Francis closed his eyes and kissed Arthur's fingers, feeling so much love for him in those moments.

"We'll be alright…" Arthur continued to whisper "We just need to get across the channel…then I know I can protect you."

"I love you so much…" Francis replied in an equally low whisper. "You make me feel like I can live again."

"Do I?" Arthur asked feeling that little flutter as well. "I hope so… " he said. "I want to kiss you… but we're in public."

Leaving the money to pay for their coffee, they set off on their journey again, with their destination less than a day away. Once out of sight of anyone, Arthur pushed him gently against a wall and kissed him deeply, Francis responded passionately cupping his lovers cheek and pulling him so close.

"Mmm… I think you need me right now don't you?" Arthur mumbled through kisses.

"I think so… " Francis replied.

Arthur could do no more at that point than help him relieve a little tension, so that is exactly what he did, before they set off once again on their journey, arm in arm.

Hours passed before they could have a little bit of a break but before they could do anything, the sounds of soldiers coming towards them made Arthur push Francis out of the way so they wouldn't be seen. "Get off the road…" he hissed as they hid in the trees and bushes quickly, hoping they would not be disturbed. A convoy was coming, of their own soldiers and this was not a good thing, they had to continue their journey through the fields as the roads were now going to be conspicuous.

"Wait for me Arthur…" Francis cried as he caught up with him, he'd been lagging behind a little, the exhaustion catching up with him again. Arthur it seemed, had been losing patience with him these last few miles but he waited for him.

"Are you alright?"

"Just a little tired…" Francis replied. "It's just sometimes I can't quite get it together and…"

"I know darling I know…" Arthur uttered and held him. "You're doing great… ok?"

"Okay…" breathed Francis "we're not far from the beach now are we?"

"No… not far… and trust me all we need to do is get passage to the other side… it will be alright…"

"You meant what you said didn't you Arthur?"

"Hm?"

"About wanting us to be… married?"

"Of course I did… I wouldn't lie about something as important as that." He said as he took his hand again, wondering why he would ask such a thing. It made him worry about it, and it was upsetting. He wouldn't have said if he didn't mean it. "Lets have a break ok…you need to rest."

A few minutes later they sat by some trees where it was quiet and they could see the sea in the distance, the smell of it wafted up making the air feel a little more fresh.

"See, there it is… not far now…" Arthur said as he handed Francis some bread and something to drink. "We are going to make it."

As they sat there Francis seemed to feel a bit low again, and he couldn't explain it. He'd felt so much better that day, but it was it seemed, only temporary. His mood lowered and Arthur sensed it, as he became very quiet and distant, not wanting to eat his food.

"Jesus Christ…" mumbled Arthur. "What is it now?"

"W..what?" Francis gulped. He was so pumped full of adrenalin, and was having a silent panic attack and for no good reason, there was nothing to be panicked about and yet he felt afraid of just about everything in that moment.

"I give you everything, I help you, I do whatever I can… and it doesn't make any difference does it?" Arthur said sounding quite annoyed. "What the fuck is going on with you?"

"Nothing I…" uttered Francis, and he was going a bit pale, his eyes distant. Tears were forming and he couldn't stop them.

"Fuck not again…" Grumbled Arthur. "Stop bloody crying will you? You're driving me insane!" He said angrily "What is it? I can't say boo to a goose ey? What did I say or do or what? Speak up!"

"Nothing… you didn't do anything…." Francis replied quietly.

"You don't think I mean what I say is that it?" Arthur yelled. "I say I want to marry you and for some reason you think I'm being sarcastic?"

"Well aren't you?" He cried "You can't possibly want to marry me…. That was a lie!"

"For fuck sake…" hissed Arthur as he threw a packet of cigarettes at Francis. They hit him in the face and he flinched a little. Arthur walked off in a huff and lit a cigarette, he was quite stressed out and upset but it was only a few minutes before he realised he'd been unfair. In fact he'd been quite cruel, after all it wasn't Francis' fault he felt so bad. What happened to Matthew was terrible, it had severely affected him, and that's what was wrong. He felt bad about what he said and shook his head. "I'm a fucking idiot…" he mumbled as he put out his cigarette and walked back towards the spot where he'd left Francis. "Francis I'm sorry I…" he began but Francis wasn't there, he was gone.

Arthur looked around trying to see where he might have gone, this was becoming a regular thing. He'd get upset, shut down and just leave, and here he was doing it again.

Francis had waited for a minute maybe, but the stresses were taking their toll on him. He couldn't help crying, he couldn't stop it… and Arthur was angry with him. When he stormed off just leaving him there feeling helpless, he honestly thought he had abandoned him. He had no reason to think he was being irrational, he genuinely thought Arthur had gone and he wouldn't be back.

In tears he walked towards the beach, and had to go down the hillside to get there. He felt absolutely miserable, and just wept, as if the whole world had come crashing down around him, not realising that if he had just waited, everything would have been alright, that it was just a stupid little argument, that Arthur had simply lost his patience, and didn't mean to act so insensitively, but he couldn't think straight.

"it was a lie… all a lie.." he said to himself through tears that would not stop. "Nobody loves me… not even you…" he mumbled as if he was talking to Arthur, of course Arthur wasn't there, he was just talking to himself. He couldn't' really see what was ahead of him or behind, or around him as his mind was filled with the horror of war and now losing the one person he thought he could rely on. That wasn't true but in his state he couldn't think otherwise. In his own mind, he felt so alone and abandoned, and afraid of everything and everyone. He had no idea where he was going or what he was going to do, just that he had to keep walking.

Arthur was going frantic, calling out for him, searching for him, and then he saw him again, in front of him, a few yards maybe, stumbling and looking very upset.

"Francis wait! Wait please! I didn't mean it!" Yelled Arthur. "Wait!"

At the sound of his voice Francis turned around and saw Arthur running towards him. He didn't have time to think because a moment later his world was turned upside down.

Arthur just wanted to get to Francis, to help him and protect him and love him but he never got there. He wasn't looking where he was going and as he took a few steps forward there was a terrifying explosion that threw him into the air landing on the ground like a rag doll on his front. He tried to move but only succeeded in writhing in abject pain. In horror of what he had just witnessed happen to his dearest friend… the man he loved, Francis ran to him falling down beside him. Arthur was shocked to the core, his eyes distant, the pain claiming his entire body, it was horrific… though he managed to try to crawl towards Francis, who scooped him up and held him. He might have been screaming but he didn't know… neither of them did.

Looking down at Arthur's body, Francis realised that his leg had been blown off just below the knee leaving nothing but a bloody ragged stump.

All he could do in those moments was hold him, which he did, rocking him back and forth. Arthur lay back in his arms, unable to do anymore, the life force ebbing away from him.

"Francis…" he struggled to say… "…want to marry you… you know …." He said, as blood seeped from his mouth and down his cheek.

"Arthur…" he cried "Arthur…." As he rocked back and forth, the light in his lovers eyes faded…


End file.
